


Goodbye, Lover.

by sugacrabs



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugacrabs/pseuds/sugacrabs
Summary: This one had to hurt?
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 10





	Goodbye, Lover.

**Author's Note:**

> -keymashes sadly-

'I want to go back, when this is all done. Help, maybe even start, the change in my homeland. What can I say, you do that to people.'

You've fought tooth and nail to be here. Only to be told something that sends your blood cold. But, he speaks it in such a wanderlust type of tone. You can tell he has big dreams.

Who are you to kill those dreams. 

He's happy, the smile on his face makes you, in turn, smile as well. Though slowly dying on the inside with the desire to chain the talkative Mage to your person at all times. Keep him from returning to his homeland, keep him from all the negative outcomes that await that journey.

"I could go with you."

You retort. It's the only thing going for you at the moment. Leaving you a hair away from telling him outright that it's the stupidest idea you've heard. Because it isn't, you're so proud of him, but so scared.

'Then it wouldn't be me making the changes, now would it?'

He chuckles, but you can hear the strain. You can't tell if it is because of his pride, or his worry for you. 

"You're right, but I don't have to help.. Just attend."

You argue quietly, hoping he may just cave. Maybe show you what exactly he is thinking even.

'Your image in itself is enough to push me out of the picture, you know?'

He says it with such a venomous tone, yet it's bathed in a sweet laced smile. As if he's teasing, but expecting a harsh outcome. Pushing your buttons, you know he likes that. 

You stand defeated for a moment. He knows you, your actions, what your personal responsibilities are. He knows people will see this differently, he knows you'll put yourself in danger's way; just to help him.

'Remember, you're the inquisitor. I'm that evil /Mage/ from Tevinter.'

He speaks in that tone, the one that drives you up a wall. Sometimes, you wonder if he truly cares. When you wonder though, it makes you angry. An anger that he causes, and it's all based on fear.

"I know the responsibility that rests on my shoulders. I know what I am to those who see me, what my actions instill." 

Your tone is angry, your eyes glaring holes into the ground. Never have you felt so unhappy, almost as if you were to cry, until now, and it was because of your own heart.

'I am not implying --'

That tone sounded startled, a bit hurt.

As if the Mage knew what hurt was. 

He had experienced a gilded life full of richness that, quite honestly, even the elf before him was jealous of. Surprisingly.

You've spent so much of your life in fear. For yourself, for your image. Here you are, in love with a man who hasn't felt fear on the same level as you. So you think, at least you hope.

That ego, those eyes. You could hate him, but you fear he'd leave sooner. You'd die not having him. You'd die not hearing him.

\--

You've spent so much time here, experienced so much. You're surprised your life hasn't come crashing down on your body. 

It's all your fault and you know it. You threw your heart at a man whose purpose is far more pure than yours.

_Hold on,_

_No one could measure your endurance, your strength.. Not only in body, but mind._

He doesn't speak, but you can hear him. It kills you to know that you're about to let the one important thing in your life go. You find those statements singing to you untruthful, and now, down right hilarious. How could he know? How could someone, so use to being fed by enslaved hands, know anything about you.

His history enrages you. You don't understand it, you don't understand him. Yet here he stands, before you, an elf, the one thing he should hate.

He does it again.

Long before this argument came to the both of you. You sat, side by side, sharing hushed whispers of secrets that you both were afraid to admit any louder. Wind kissed and sore, sharing a night you thought you'd never get. Alone, underneath a needy, moonless sky. 

He moves closer to you, sensing that disturbed anger, that only he can mess with. Entwining his fingers with yours, like many months before. His eyes search yours for a moment. You can see the momentary gleam of tears being fought back.

He knows he's hurt you. You know you've hurt him.

He pulls you forward, a quiet apology brought on by a slow caress of your knuckles. You forgive him, the words being spoken with a gentle kiss to his forehead. It's a moment that neither of you give a chance to slip by, and it begins to hurt more each time your destiny rears it's ugly head.

"It doesn't matter who I am--"

You quip, his eyes finding yours after a moment of resting.

'Don't speak.'

He whispers it, not a command, just a plea. Your heart sings in that moment. He's let his walls down once more for you. You're honored, and suddenly uncaring of the bloodline he carries, the history that haunts him. 

It's a moment shared with silence. You're both happy, though there lay a subtle hint of fear within the both of you.


End file.
